


The Unwitting Roommate

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Pets, Tough &/or cranky character adopts/is adopted by a stray dog or cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Eliot gets a new apartment, but he wasn't counting on a roommate.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 53
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	The Unwitting Roommate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



Eliot texts his landlord as soon as he puts two and two together.  
_I think your last tenant left their cat behind here._

The reply comes only a few minutes later, vibrating at his hip. _Ugh, I'm so sorry. I can come by Monday and pick it up._

Monday. Today's only Wednesday. 

_Fine. Thanks,_ he texts back. He only adds 'thanks' to be polite. Sticking someone with a random pet for five whole days is almost as douchey as moving and leaving your cat behind in your old apartment.

* * *

**Wednesday**

Eliot eyes the cat closely, but it's just sitting on the kitchen counter grooming it's feet. He shoos it down onto the floor before he leaves. 

There's a pet store a few blocks away. Eliot goes in, looking for the bare essentials. Litter box, litter, food.

"Aww, new kitten?" the girl at the counter asks. 

"Adult cat. Just uh. Babysitting."

"That's sweet of you," she says. "Does kitty need some new toys?" She grabs a plastic jar of colourful fleece mice.

"No thanks."

He pays and leaves and makes it back to his apartment a mere twenty-six minutes after he left it. 

The cat has shredded one of the cardboard boxes Eliot has stacked by the front door to go out with the recycling, but cardboard didn't hold its attention long enough. The cat is stalking one of those reusable fabric shopping bags around the kitchen island, batting with a stripey paw and then pouncing.

Eliot takes the bag away before the cat shreds that too and sweeps up the cardboard pieces. The cat pounces on the broom and kicks it with both back paws until Eliot puts it away in the cupboard. Then the cat walks away like it wasn't interested to start with.

* * *

**Thursday**

Eliot's alarm goes off at five-thirty every morning. He's already up when it does though, because the cat is clearly used to being fed early and starts screaming at the closed bedroom door at ten after five, sharp.

It's a boy, Eliot has decided, after looking at some photos online and comparing. The cat lets him check, looking only mildly irritated, though Eliot's under the impression that's the standard look for a cat.

"Cat," he says to the cat.

The cat does not acknowledge him.

No surprise. Eliot's not sure what he would have said anyway, other than maybe a short lecture on the inherent rudeness of waking someone up before their alarm.

He does not see the cat for the rest of the day.

* * *

**Friday**

Friday morning, Eliot wakes up to his alarm. The cat is on his bed, sleeping soundly next to his feet. He Googles it, wondering with a little concern, if the cat might be sick. He learns this is a big step -- the cat trusts him enough to sleep near him. Great, trustworthy to cats. Something he can put on his resume.

Eliot rises and goes for a shower. The cat is sitting by the bathroom door and yowls until Eliot puts more food in the plastic dish for him (despite there still being some kibble from yesterday in the dish).

The cat bothers him, continually jumping up on the counter while Eliot tries to do meal prep. There's going to be brown and grey fur in his meals for the next month, at this rate. Eliot finally has to shut the cat up in the bedroom while he's dicing veggies, lest a paw find its way under the knife.

The cat yowls some more, like Eliot's torturing him, though it's quite the opposite.

Eliot leaves for a few hours, meeting with Hardison and Parker.

"Is that… cat fur?" Hardison asks, picking a tuft off the sleeve of Eliot's jacket.

"Yeah, probably."

"Since when do you have a cat, man?"

"It's not mine," Eliot says, a bit sharply. "The person who rented my place before me just left him. Landlord's picking him up on Monday."

"Ohh, shit. Want me to track them down to their new place?"

"They don't deserve him back," Eliot says.

Parker and Hardison trade a pointed look.

"Are you sure you don't have a cat?" Parker asks. Either she wasn't listening a minute ago or she's trying to make a point, but it's Parker, so it's impossible to tell.

The cat is sleeping on his pillow when Eliot goes to turn in for the night. He scooches the cat down to the foot of the bed and the creature barely stirs.

"Mroow?"

"Shh. You're fine. Just move."

It's not until Eliot's curled on his side with the cat resettling at his back that he realizes he was just speaking to him like he'd speak to a person. Is that weird? he wonders. He's asleep before he decides on an answer.

* * *

**Saturday**

Eliot goes back to the pet store and buys three catnip mice, a feather on a string and pole, and a cardboard scratcher shaped like a miniature couch, hoping one or another will save the laces in his running shoes, the corner of his coffee table, and his ankles.

"Still cat-sitting?" asks the clerk.

"Yeah, and he's a little shit," Eliot says. He pays cash and waves off the receipt. He doesn't want to keep track of how much he's spent on this foolish moment of soft-heartedness.

"Aren't they all?" she asks, smiling fondly for some reason.

At the apartment, the cat immediately grabs one of the mice and bats it high into the air before running across the room and back like his tail was on fire.

Eliot bites back a smile. "Okay, good."

The cardboard couch proves to be a hit too, and keeps the cat occupied while Eliot sets up the sous vide for dinner.

Parker lets herself in through the window, ignoring the fact that Eliot's on the fifth floor and the laws of gravity to make her classic Parker entrance. Hardison knocks and then lets himself in through the door before Eliot can answer, demonstrating the classic Hardison lack of respect for Eliot.

Eliot grumbles darkly and lets both of them do whatever they want, which is classic Eliot, so at least everyone is equally on brand.

The cat launches himself at Parker, who scoops him out of the air and presses him to her chest.

"Aww, he's cute!"

"Miaow?"

"Yes, you, you're a little cutie bean. What's your name?"

Eliot shrugs. "Don't know, doesn't have a collar."

"You didn't name him?" Parker is aghast.

"He's not my cat," Eliot protests, for what feels like a ninetieth time.

"Yeah, _really,_ " Hardison says, chuckling. He moves the mouse toy off the couch so he can sprawl and nudges the cardboard scratcher with his toe. "Looks like a cat playground in here."

"Well, he shreds everything otherwise."

The cat crawls into Eliot's lap and pokes his head over the edge of the table, begging for a taste. Eliot doesn't blame him; dinner is great, like it always is, because Eliot's a great cook.

"No," Eliot says, tapping the cat on the head and putting him back on the floor. He's back a moment later.

"Mrrrr."

"Don't make that noise," Eliot says, having learned by now this is an unhappy cat noise. "I ain't sharing. Cats don't need steak."

"MrrRRR."

"I mean it," he says again, putting the cat on the floor under the table. "Go walk it off. Hardison, pass me the mouse. It's the only thing that distracts him."

Hardison and Parker exchange another pointed look. Hardison hands over the blue mouse that the cat presented to him as a gift a few minutes earlier, when he was trying to con Hardison out of bits of dinner. Eliot tosses it towards the couch and the cat goes flying after it.

* * *

**Sunday**

  
Eliot orders take out for lunch and the cat crawls inside the paper bag as soon as the shawarma is out. His tail lashes back and forth, crinkling the paper.

"I'm not gonna take it back," Eliot assures him. "It's all yours."

After lunch, Eliot pulls out a book and settles onto the couch to relax. After a few minutes, he's aware he's being watched.

"What?"

"Meow."

"Fine," Eliot says, granting permission.

The cat hops up onto the couch and settles into a loaf at the edge of the cushion next to Eliot.

Eliot reads another chapter and then he realizes the cat is on his lap, purring. "Big suck," he says. The cat doesn't acknowledge him.

That night, the cat sits on the bathroom counter while Eliot showers, guarding his towel.

The cat pads along behind him on his way to his bedroom and helps himself to one side of the bed and is purring and kneading at the blankets while Eliot makes himself comfortable. He doesn't shoo him or try to convince him to sleep at the foot of the bed. He knows he'd lose; the cat is more stubborn than Hardison.

Eliot falls asleep with purring in his ears.

* * *

**Monday**

_On my way to get the cat, thanks so much for being cool. My sister got married this weekend._

Eliot sighs. That explains the long wait, at least. Would have made him less bitter if she'd said that at the beginning of this boondoggle. He does a quick circuit of the living room and kitchen to grab up all the mice, feathers, and the scratcher and tucks it all in the paper bag from yesterday's lunch.

"Meeeuw?"

"Yeah, she's going to find you a good home," Eliot says. Then he pauses. He doesn't actually know what the landlord is going to do.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he says, barely directing the words to the cat.

 _It's fine,_ he texts back. _It wasn't too much trouble._

_Ten minutes._

Eliot puts the rest of the food he bought into the paper bag too. Wherever the cat's going, he'll need food.

Nine minutes.

Eliot pats the cat on the head and he bumps up into his hand and makes a 'prrowr' sound.

Eight minutes.

_Sorry, you know what, it's fine. I don't mind hanging on to him. In case the old owner calls you or something._

_He was a piece of work, _the landlord texts. _I really doubt he cares. This has happened before. I'll take it to the shelter.___

__Six minutes._ _

___I'll keep him,_ Eliot texts and then deletes it. He's not the right person to have a pet, with how often he's out of town and people try to kill or maim him. It wouldn't be fair to the cat._ _

__Five minutes._ _

__There are services that watch pets when their owners are out of town though. He's definitely heard of that before. Plus, no one's successfully killed him yet, so who's to say it'll ever happen?_ _

__Four minutes._ _

___I'm going to keep him,_ he texts._ _

___LOL obviously,_ says Hardison in the group text chat._ _

___Can I name him?_ Parkers asks._ _

__Two minutes._ _

__There's a knock on his apartment door, two minutes early._ _

__"I'm sorry," he says, opening the door. "He kinda grew on me."_ _

__The landlord just shakes her head. "Your lease says you're liable for any damage it causes."_ _

__"Yeah, that's fine," Eliot says. He's liable for any damage anyway, and Parker caused enough in his last apartment that he knows he'll be in for it this time too._ _

__"He's cute," she says._ _

__"He's a cat," Eliot says, stating the obvious back to her. All cats are at least a little bit cute._ _

__She quirks her eyebrow. "Well, thanks, this saves me some trouble."_ _

__That's not why Eliot did it, but he smiles anyway. "Sure."_ _

__She leaves and he shuts the door. He takes the catnip mice, the feather toy, and the cardboard scratcher back out of the bag._ _

__"Don't look at me like that," he warns the cat, who Parker definitely isn't allowed to name._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Ash for beta reading!


End file.
